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Winter Moon


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#1
Dead_Poet

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Winter Moon

Accompanied by sorrow
Feeding shame and guilt
Drowning the spark of hope
It's a cold deadwinter night

The frost enters my room
As I mourn my heart out
All the answers and solutions
Buried beneath the snow forever

Staring through the window
I plea for help... I chant

O' Winter Moon, give me strenght
Light up my path with your gleam
O' Winter Moon, guide my way
In this frozen soil no flower grows
O' Winter Moon, heal my wounds
Be my shelter until the dawn
O' Winter Moon, set me free
In the deepest dark I'll find my place

O' Winter Moon
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Olen aina vihannut itseäni. Joskus vähemmän, usein enemmän, mutta aina. Yritin hirttäytyä jo napanuoraan.

Kuolleen runoilijan kirstu


#2
Dead_Poet

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The Last Words

So tired and worn I am
The flower died in my hand
Nothing is meant to last
Yet, I chose not to believe
That doom was written in our stars

But as we parted ways
The weight was off my heart
The distance was too great
My heart too numb to love
And the demon veiled your eyes

It doesn't hurt when something that never was dies...

Too distant were our shores
Still those hurtful words reached my heart
Awakening the wrath in me
Every agonizing word you spoke
Drew our worlds even more apart

Damn you... Damn you to hell!

I hate these games you play
Is it me you try to slay?
The devil speaks with your voice
There's nothing left to say
Nothing more to feel

And even though you regret
I can never forgive
So fare thee well...
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Olen aina vihannut itseäni. Joskus vähemmän, usein enemmän, mutta aina. Yritin hirttäytyä jo napanuoraan.

Kuolleen runoilijan kirstu


#3
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Haunting

So shy, so beautiful
Seems like a distant dream, so real
Oh bleeding heart, don't lead me astray

So kind, so beautiful
Would you share with me this misery
And walk with me into the dark
Hand in hand?

So much to say
But afraid to speak a word
You haunt my dreams every single night
As I reach in the dark
In despair

To share our dreams
One love, one lifetime
In sickness and in health
Till we sleep side by side
In the bosom of the earth

That is all I ever wish
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Olen aina vihannut itseäni. Joskus vähemmän, usein enemmän, mutta aina. Yritin hirttäytyä jo napanuoraan.

Kuolleen runoilijan kirstu


#4
Dead_Poet

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Dead Sun

Enter the landscape of my mind
Let me guide you through this wasteland
Where trees drop their leaves of cinder
Take in this dismal beauty

You are the light in eternal night
The lily among the thorns
Your sorrow is my comfort
Your tears sweet rain for the parched earth

Walk with me through this misery
Let me feed of your grief
I'll dry your tears so you can see
From the east the dead sun rises


You're the one to tear me apart
You have the hold of my heart
If you let go... if you break me
My wounds stay open till the end of time

Walk with me through this misery
Let me feed of your grief
I'll dry your tears so you can see
You are the dead sun of my world

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Olen aina vihannut itseäni. Joskus vähemmän, usein enemmän, mutta aina. Yritin hirttäytyä jo napanuoraan.

Kuolleen runoilijan kirstu


#5
Dead_Poet

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When the Last Petal Falls

The Beast:

"The tears, the misery, the pain
Stay hidden within these walls
Alone I face a new dawn
And draw the curtains down

She saw beyond my demon eyes
Igniting the crimson flame in me
But the Beauty yearned for something more
She tore a wound in my heart"

When the last petal falls
No one will comfort the Beast
The rain now smothers the flame
Burning a hole in his soul
The Beauty and the Beast
Shared their final dance


The Beauty:

"Still dreaming of that northern land
Yet aware it won't come true
It lingers in my mind
The memory of his trembling paw

Lost in these oceans of regret
If I could, I would return
An aching heart split in two
None will ever make whole"

When the last petal falls
The Beast remains a monster
The Beauty will never live
Happily ever after
They're aged not by time
But by anguish and tears

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Olen aina vihannut itseäni. Joskus vähemmän, usein enemmän, mutta aina. Yritin hirttäytyä jo napanuoraan.

Kuolleen runoilijan kirstu


#6
Dead_Poet

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Kaivetaan nyt tämäkin esiin. Vuodatusta viimeaikaisista fiiliksistä.

Of Abhorrence And Human Mind

Deformed faces before me
Distorted voices around me
Ruined images of God
Stain my beautiful world

Oh how I loathe them, detest them
I wish I could make them fall

They speak their narrow, rotten minds
They bring forth the stench of decay
Abandoned their shallow graves
Woe to you oh living dead souls

Now the northwind blows so frigid
But I'm already too cold to feel

In these halls of misanthropy
I heed their stillborn thoughts
And here I wait for the rain
To wash away the filth
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Olen aina vihannut itseäni. Joskus vähemmän, usein enemmän, mutta aina. Yritin hirttäytyä jo napanuoraan.

Kuolleen runoilijan kirstu


#7
Dead_Poet

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Chauvinist Pig
 
Swollen face
Bloodshot eyes, half blind
Overweight
He's the saddest man alive
 
Grabs a bottle
Like his ex-wife, tight
Trying in vain
To wash his sorrows down the drain
 
Drop dead drunk he stumbles forward
Flipping them birds left and right
Shouting fucks and racist insults
Singing drunken lullabies
 
Man of the north, chauvinist as always
The noose is tight, he's ready for a swing
Man of the woods, miserable as always
The shotgun's loaded, he's ready to take a plunge
 
Red neck man
King of the dump, hell yeah!
Filthy clothes
The pig's well fed indeed
 
Shit-stained grin
Thinks he's always right
Dumb as a brick
A genious he ain't
 
Patriotic dickless wanker
Loves himself like no one else
Homophobic fucked up asshole
Loathes himself like no one else
 
------------------------------------
 
Eräs oululainen raskaan rockin orkesteri vaikutti melko reippaasti tämän tekstin syntyyn, kuten luultavasti joku huomaa.

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Olen aina vihannut itseäni. Joskus vähemmän, usein enemmän, mutta aina. Yritin hirttäytyä jo napanuoraan.

Kuolleen runoilijan kirstu


#8
Siriumish

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Onko tähän säveltä olemassa? :) Minua harmittaa etten osaa kirjoittaa enkä lukea nuotteja, yleensä jotain sävelkulkua on havaittavissa korvien välissä kun kirjoitan.
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If life was simple, we would be simple also.

#9
Dead_Poet

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Onko tähän säveltä olemassa? :) Minua harmittaa etten osaa kirjoittaa enkä lukea nuotteja, yleensä jotain sävelkulkua on havaittavissa korvien välissä kun kirjoitan.

Ei ole varsinaisesti mitään säveltä kun en tuosta ajatellut biisiä lähteä tekemään.


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Olen aina vihannut itseäni. Joskus vähemmän, usein enemmän, mutta aina. Yritin hirttäytyä jo napanuoraan.

Kuolleen runoilijan kirstu





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